


the very beginning

by LeilaKalomi



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Comfort No Hurt, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, M/M, Snake Crowley (Good Omens), Soft Aziraphale (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:01:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24461701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeilaKalomi/pseuds/LeilaKalomi
Summary: A very silly ficlet with no plot and snake cuddles in Aziraphale's bed.Written for the name-that-author game on the GO-Events server.Prompt: fic must include the line "This brings back memories."
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 17
Kudos: 86
Collections: Name That Author Round Four





	the very beginning

“Oh, I don’t think you’re big enough!”

“Angel, there’s only sso much that’ll fit.”

“Fit?” Aziraphale cranes his neck, looking down at the bulge at the foot of his bed, where a sleek black head peeks out from the tartan blankets. Yellow eyes glare at him.

Crowley hisses. “Look, this bed is only sso big, and _ssomeone_ , who I might add is hogging the blanketss, refuses to invesst in central heating. Could it be the very ssame ssomeone who thought a _full-ssize_ bed would be ssufficient? Ssso, no, I am not going to be the sssame sssize I was in Eden. I’ll be as big as I can and ssstill fit in this bed with you, and no bigger.”

Aziraphale sighs. The temperature in the room grows warmer. The bed grows an extra two square feet. Crowley grows, too, and slithers up toward him, his head heavy on Aziraphale’s shoulder.

“Crowley?”

“Yess?”

“Move. Please.”

Crowley drags his tail over the tops of Aziraphale’s feet, and his ankles. The sensation is cooling, soothing, just enough friction from the scales to soothe, not enough to drag or scrape. The weight of the snake against his chest pins Aziraphale in place so he feels comforted, secure. Aziraphale’s head falls back, his eyes fluttering closed in peace.

“Like that?” Crowley hisses.

“Oh, yes. That’s so nice. Relaxing. Please continue.”

“You’re...sso warm, angel.”

Aziraphale hesitates, then wraps his arms around Crowley. This brings back memories. Memories he’d wanted to relive.

“You really like thisss?” Crowley sounds doubtful.

“Of course I do, my dear,” Aziraphale hesitates, then turns his head to kiss cool scales. He doesn’t tell Crowley that he’d dreamed of this for years. That he’d looked for him, always, after Eden. After the rainstorm, Crowley had given him an arch little look, transformed, and slithered away over his feet, rubbing against his legs, leaving him delirious with the sensation, so heavy and cool and smooth. He’d always ended up where Crowley was, just because he couldn’t stop thinking of him; he’d tormented himself over the guilt and shame of wanting _this_ , wanting to be close with the demon who’d started it all. (How could he not want to be close with the demon who had started it all?) It had taken him thousands of years to realize that all of their serendipitous meetings weren’t simply his own accidental miracles; that Crowley sought him out.

“You want me to _be_ like thisss?”

“Dearest, not if you don’t want to be. It’s just that I so seldom see you this way...”

“It brings back memories,” Crowley whispers. Or maybe it’s just a hiss. “All that time apart.”

“Well, yes, but this was the very beginning. Not so many rules.” Aziraphale rests his hand on the back of Crowley’s head, which rests against his chest. “Don’t you see? It was the first time I saw you. You were beautiful. You _are_ beautiful. It was the only time I let myself think it.”


End file.
